The library is quiet enough to hear the faint hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle of pages. You’ve claimed your usual table near the back, half-hidden by tall shelves lined with worn paperbacks. Your bag is at your feet, your book open in front of you, and you’ve been so engrossed in the story that you’ve almost forgotten Oscar is sitting across from you.

Almost.

He’s supposed to be working on his history essay, but instead, his notebook is still open to the same blank page it was ten minutes ago. You feel his gaze before you hear his voice—a low whisper, just for you.

“You know,” he murmurs, leaning forward until his arm brushes yours on the table, “if you keep biting your lip like that when you read, I’m going to lose my focus entirely.”

You glance up, a smile tugging at your lips. “You weren’t focused to begin with.”

His grin deepens, boyish and slightly smug. “Not on homework… definitely on you.” He reaches under the table, fingers brushing yours until you curl them around his.

The librarian passes, her gaze sharp enough to make you both sit up straighter, but as soon as she’s gone, Oscar leans back in, eyes warm. “I’m serious. You in your little book world? Cutest thing I’ve seen all day.”

You shake your head, trying to hide your smile as you turn the page. But you feel his knee press lightly against yours under the table, a quiet reminder he’s still there, distracting you just as much as you distract him.